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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27550222">Cross Examination</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeceVolume/pseuds/CeceVolume'>CeceVolume</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Things To Say To God [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Charlotte argues for her chance in Heaven, Charlotte stops feeling guilty, Court With God</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:02:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27550222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeceVolume/pseuds/CeceVolume</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlotte Richards is called before God and argues her case for why she should be allowed to stay in Heaven.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amenadiel &amp; Original Charlotte Richards, Dan Espinoza/Original Charlotte Richards (implied), God &amp; Original Charlotte Richards, Lucifer Morningstar &amp; Original Charlotte Richards</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Things To Say To God [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751551</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cross Examination</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, this series was started before 5a aired, making Michael not canon in the slightest.  I hope that doesn't bother anyone.</p><p>Also, this is kind of a prequel to the first installment; the others will be in chronological order.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                Charlotte’s first moments in Heaven were overshadowed by her own awe.  Everything was…perfect.  Bright.  A complete contrast from what she’d experienced in Hell, where everything had been dark and closed off.  Like she couldn’t escape.</p><p>                Heaven was…freedom.  It was breathing fresh, clean air, running around without a care.  The feeling that overwhelmed her was the same as when she’d have breakfast with her kids or meet up with an old friend.  It was an ever-lasting calm and serenity that brought her to tears, but even the feeling of them on her cheeks was comforting.</p><p>                Turning to Amenadiel, she murmured with a light laugh, “I made it.”</p><p>                With a sad kind of smile, he nodded.  “You did,” he replied quietly.  “You never should have doubted yourself.”  His hand landed on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.</p><p>                She looked past his face to the large, gray wings shadowing his shoulders.  “You shouldn’t have either,” she said with a grin.  “They’re beautiful, Amenadiel.”</p><p>                Now, an almost cheeky smirk pulled at his lips as he flexed his feathers, ever the show-off.  “They are pretty formidable.”  Another flex and they disappeared, leaving him to stretch his shoulders.  “It’s been so long, I almost forgot what it felt like to fly.”</p><p>                The stark reminder that she had died hit her then, making her face fall.  It might not be Hell, but it also wasn’t Earth with all the people she loved.  And, hopefully, it would be a long time before she got to see them again.</p><p>                As if he understood what she wasn’t saying, the angel at her side brought her into a tight hug.  “Time moves differently here, Charlotte,” he whispered soothingly in her ear.  “What is fifty years on Earth will feel like nothing up here.”</p><p>                Still, the happy tears turned to devastated sobs.  Her hands went to the material at the back of his shirt, clenching into what she assumed would be painful for anyone else.  Or maybe there was no pain in the Silver City.</p><p>                She took her time wetting Amenadiel’s chest, letting out all the frustration and pain of knowing all the things that she wouldn’t be able to do with those she loved on Earth.  She’d never be able to fully mend the relationship the Goddess had ruined with her children, never have another girls’ night out with Ella, Chloe, Linda, and Maze.  There would be no more morning giggles or drunken, late night chats or waffles that went straight to her hips with Dan.</p><p>                And she could never be sure there would be.  Who was to say whether her family would make it to Heaven?  She had thought she was on the right path up until the moment she’d woken up on the beach, her head filled with memories of the cage in Hell where she’d had to watch her family torn apart again and again.  Even then, she hadn’t fully embraced it until Lucifer had shown her his wings in the penthouse.</p><p>                What if the last time she’d looked in her children’s faces, when they’d seemed wary but hopeful, was the last time in eternity that she would get to see them?  Would she ever be able to apologize to Elliot for everything she’d put him through rather than just calling the marriage quits?</p><p>Amenadiel slowly stroked her hair, much as she did Ivy when she had a bad dream, and Charlotte realized that she would get no chance to marry the man she’d loved so much.  There wouldn’t even be talk of children or houses or a chance to be an old, bickering couple.</p><p>                As if he could read her mind, the angel murmured, “It must be very overwhelming right now, but I promise you’ll find solace here.  Know that I’m sorry you’re here at all; I should have protected you instead of the other way around.”</p><p>                Shaking her head, she took a step back, dabbing daintily at her eyes to dry the tears.  “No, I don’t regret it.  Who knows what happens when an angel dies?”  She gave a short laugh when she couldn’t keep from crying, a self-deprecating noise that rose from her chest.  “And who am I to cry about paradise?  Especially when I know what the other destination is like.”  Trying to keep herself from sniffling, she found that there was suddenly a handkerchief in her pocket.  Shaking it out, she added, “See?  Ask and the Silver City provides.”</p><p>                Amenadiel gently took her arm, leading her deeper into the beautiful city.  “I hope you won’t think I’m being insensitive, but you’ll be happy here.  It isn’t just tissues that the Silver City can give you, but all the time and knowledge the universe has to offer.”  When he let her go, they continued walking in a direction she realized she was guiding them, as if she instinctively knew where she was headed.  “And, like I said, time moves differently here.  It’s hard to explain, but your loved ones will be here before you even noticed how long it’s been.”</p><p>                She nodded as they stopped in front of a small rambler she recognized: her childhood home.  It had been so long since she’d even thought about it, but everything was exactly as she remembered it.  Yellow paint in desperate need of a touch up with pink shutters that should have been hideous.  A white picket fence missing just a few boards here and there but covered in flower boxes bursting with blooming flowers surrounded a lovingly kept yard with a full garden surrounding the sides of the house.</p><p>                It was perfect.  Charlotte could almost see—</p><p>                “Charlie!”</p><p>                The long-forgotten but all-too-familiar sound of her mother’s voice coming from the front step made her stop, her heart rising in her throat.  It was a sound she had missed since her early teens when she’d been diagnosed with cancer.</p><p>                And there she was, in all her glory, wearing her favorite, muted-pink, shoulder-padded pants suit, auburn hair falling in huge, tight curls over her collarbone.</p><p>                But even her bright blue eyeshadow couldn’t embarrass her daughter as it had in life; Charlotte only felt the overwhelming urge to race into her mother’s arms and hold her tight.</p><p>                “Mama,” she breathed as she did just that.</p><p>-.-</p><p>                It might have been minutes or maybe years after reuniting with her mother, but Charlotte found herself searching out Amenadiel once again.  She wanted to ask him if he would bring her friends and family a message, if he <em>could</em> help them on the right path so she would get her eternity with them.  If he would comfort them until she could, as her mother had done for her.</p><p>                But every angel that she approached seemed repulsed by the question, as if it simply wasn’t done.  She’d seen a lot of that in her life, though, and she knew better than to cow to it.  Who did they think they were, looking down their noses at Charlotte Richards and her friendship with their brother?  If he and Lucifer were to be believed, weren’t they supposed to help her when she asked?  Wasn’t that one of their Father’s rules, after all?</p><p>                When she’d finally had enough, the defense attorney stiffened her back, standing up straight to glare down her nose at a short but lean with muscle Remiel, just as she had done so many police officers that had dared to question her.  “I believe,” she said, voice dripping with careful disdain and enjoying how it irked the angel, “I asked you to tell me where he is, not explain why it might not be any of my business.”</p><p>                A feral snarl rose on the other woman’s face as she jerked a thumb over her shoulder.  “He is with Michael, requesting a meeting with Father; I doubt he would care to be disturbed by you, mortal.”</p><p>                She raised a stiff brow before she pushed past the smaller woman, intentionally slamming her shoulder into the pipsqueak.  Unfortunately, she didn’t get satisfaction of jostling the angel, but she still called over her shoulder, “I would say thanks, but you’d hardly accept it from a <em>mortal</em>, would you?”</p><p>                Practically hearing the grinding of Remiel’s teeth behind her, Charlotte strode purposefully towards the impossibly high staircase that seemed to be the center of everything.  Though she couldn’t see the top, it didn’t take long for her to be only a few steps below where Amenadiel stood, blocking another angel until she could only see two large eagle wings between them and the doors.</p><p>                It looked like they were arguing, but she refused to be intimidated.  Once upon a time, Lucifer had explained that angels weren’t allowed to harm humans, so she could assume that extended to the afterlife, as well.</p><p>                “Amenadiel,” she said as she came up directly behind him, “I’ve been looking for you.”</p><p>                As their attention turned to her, she had to stifle a gasp at the man her friend was talking to.  He was the twin of Lucifer, and if it weren’t for the ramrod tight hold he had over himself, she might have mistook him for the Devil himself.</p><p>                But her time with the club owner over the last months of her life made it impossible not to notice the differences.  Too-long hair tied at the nape of his neck, a Walmart three-pack Hanes shirt stretched tight over his chest, camo commando pants with heavy black boots…Lucifer would never.</p><p>                “Human,” Michael hissed, “you are here only because my brother broke our rules; I would suggest—”</p><p>                She held up a hand as she brought herself to Amenadiel’s side.  “I’ve been looking for you,” she said to the angel without another look at the other.  “I was wondering if I could ask you—”</p><p>                “You dare to put your hand in the face of the power of <em>God</em>?” Michael demanded ruthlessly, wings flaring and bristling threateningly.  She would have sworn she saw literal flames leap in his eyes, though they disappeared when she caught his gaze.  “The audacity of mankind—”</p><p>                “After how rude you and your siblings have been to me, I think it’s really the least I could do,” she answered stiffly, easily pushing away any unease she felt.  She might have been to Hell, but she was in Heaven now, and she’d earned her place there.  Crossing her arms over her chest, she added, “I’ve gone up against scarier men than you and I.  Always.  Won.  Don’t test me.”</p><p>                “Charlotte,” Amenadiel cut in warningly, catching her attention again, “you may want to mind yourself—”</p><p>                She cut him a chilly look.  “You said it yourself; I deserve to be here.  And if he can’t accept that because he’s discriminatory towards <em>humans</em>, then I think I should bring it to your <em>Father’s</em> attention that His ‘power’ isn’t fit to be around those expecting paradise.”</p><p>                Both looked almost stricken by her glib threat of telling their Daddy, but she didn’t care.  It wasn’t fair to expect her to just toe the line because they drew it in the sand; she’d worked damned hard—pun not completely intended—to get here and they had no right to push her around.</p><p>                “Your body housed our <em>Mother</em> while She plotted against Him!” Michael reminded her vehemently.  “He would never—”</p><p>                Suddenly, the giant doors behind them began to open.  Instead of creaking they seemed to shake the ground, though no one below but the angels looked as if they’d even noticed.</p><p>                <em>“I would like a word with the barrister.”</em></p><p>                The voice drifted over her like an ocean breeze, nearly making her sigh in her contentment.  Despite Amenaidel’s shock and Michael’s appalled expression, she couldn’t help the smile that came to her face, though she couldn’t be sure it was just victory that stretched her lips.</p><p>                She didn’t even glance at the two as she moved towards the doors, simply throwing over her shoulder, “Seems I’m being summoned into the Judge’s chamber, boys.  I guess we’ll have to catch up later, Amenadiel.”</p><p>-.-</p><p>                Okay, so she didn’t immediately cross the room to the familiar court doors when she was shut in.  How could she?  Even as she stood in what looked just like her old stomping grounds as a defense attorney, she couldn’t escape the daunting realization that she was about to meet God.  Though she’d had quite a bit of time to come to terms with the fact that she was a very small cog in a very large wheel, it didn’t seem to have been enough to steel her against meeting the Creator.</p><p>                How could it have?  She could hardly be the first person to ever request a meeting with him.  Even with everything that had happened, she wasn’t particularly devout or even a bit religious; truthfully, she hadn’t given much thought to God outside of His being Amenadiel and Lucifer’s mostly absentee Father.</p><p>                And this wasn’t what she had intended to do when coming up the stairs; she’d just wanted to speak to His son but, as usual, had gotten ahead of herself.  She didn’t even have any particular thing to talk about with the Almighty; why was he calling her into what appeared to be court?</p><p>                Straightening her shoulders and raising her chin, she took a slow, deep breath, reminding herself that she was the first woman at her firm to make partner and there was a damn good reason for it.  Whatever she was being summoned by God for, she was ready.</p><p>                Before she could even reach for the heavy handle of the door, though, it slowly opened, revealing a court room she recognized immediately.  As she strode towards the front, she couldn’t stop herself from gently running her fingers across the wood finish on the benches, breathing in the scent of pine floor cleaner that had filled her with a sense of power ever since her first big win.</p><p>                She remembered it fondly, though she knew she shouldn’t.  The defendant had even been a part of her Hell Loop, once upon a time, a gangster who she got off on an obscure technicality that had taken her weeks to find.  But it had prompted her confidence in her ability as a defense attorney, especially when she’d been promoted to junior partner almost certainly because of it.</p><p>                It had taken many talks with Dan for her to realize that she could be proud of her prowess as a lawyer and feel guilty for how she’d used it.  This court room only solidified that fact in her mind.</p><p>                “Hello, Counselor,” a booming yet soothing voice echoed around her, making her start.  “You may approach the bench.”</p><p>                Warily, she looked around for the owner of the voice as she made her way to the front of the room.  The sound of her heels clicking against the laminate floor followed her like the bang of a gavel, and she stifled a shudder.  The room that had made her powerful only seconds before now eerie in its quiet, unsettling in the emptiness.</p><p>                It was a tactic, she knew.  Every decent lawyer knew that the best way to ruin another’s argument was to throw them off their game; the jury was always biased towards the more self-assured of the attorneys.</p><p>                But there was no jury here, no opposing counsel.  So why even bother?</p><p>                Unless this was a trial before the greatest judge of all time.  Did Heaven even have a jury to argue before, or was she just supposed to get God to believe she belonged here?</p><p>                Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light.  Her arm went up to shield her eyes, but it passed as faster than she could respond.</p><p>                “Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth: for I am God, and there is none else.”</p><p>                Would it hurt her case if she rolled her eyes?  Despite her mother’s best attempts when she’d been a child, Charlotte had never gotten the least bit interested in organized religion.  This had only increased when she’d found out about Lucifer and Amenadiel; man was not perfect, so why trust their interpretation of something they wouldn’t be able to prove until they were dead?</p><p>                Still, she forced herself to put on her best face, returning her gaze to where a judge would usually sit.  An older black man sat there in pure white judge’s robes, watching her with a stern and unconvinced look.</p><p>                “I am omniscient and omnipresent, Ms. Richards; it would do you well to remember that.”</p><p>                She jerked back like she’d been slapped.  Maybe she should have paid attention in all her Sunday school classes, if only to have some inkling at proper protocol for meeting with God Himself.</p><p>                Then again, she’d fought to get to Heaven, escorted first class by Amenadiel; there wasn’t a chance in Hell that she was going to back down.  Righting her suit jacket, she said, “My apologies, Your Honor; I usually find that my thoughts are inadmissible.”</p><p>                She could have sworn she saw a twitch at the corner of His lips, but the moment was fleeting, and He looked as if He had already made up His mind about her.  Clearing His throat, He opened the file in front of Him, glasses perched on His nose.  Had He always been wearing glasses, or did they just appear?  “There are quite a few blights in your file, Ms. Richards.  Quite a bit of guilt.  Just one of these would usually bar the Gates to you.”  He looked back up at her.  “Why do you believe you deserve eternal peace?”</p><p>                Though infuriated by His flippant tone, Charlotte forced herself to keep her cool.  She might never have been on trial herself, but she knew how to deal with condescending judges.  “As You must know, Your Honor, I returned from Hell—”</p><p>                “After your physical body housed My blood-thirsty ex-Wife, yes.”</p><p>                She kept her tone even as she continued as if He hadn’t spoken.  “Intending to never go back.  With the help of Your sons, Amenadiel and Lucifer, I was able to change for the better.  I stopped defending monsters and started putting them behind bars.”</p><p>                “But that isn’t the only guilt here,” He noted dryly, pulling the glasses from His nose and closing the file.  Folding His hands on the paperwork, He just watched her silently, making her insides squirm in discomfort.  Yet she didn’t back down, just kept holding His gaze.  Seeming annoyed, He finally asked, “So?  On this charge, how do you plead?”</p><p>                That made her stop and really think about what she had to say.  Could she deny that she felt guilty?  Absolutely not, there was so much that she had left unfinished on Earth, with everyone she loved.  Did she think that the few good deeds she managed to squeeze into her last year on Earth was enough to wipe the slate clean after years of doing whatever it took to get ahead?  No, she didn’t think she could have with another fifty years.</p><p>                But did that mean that she deserved to be tortured for eternity when she’d died <em>trying</em>?</p><p>                “I plead no contest.”</p><p>                Now it was His turn to rear back in surprise, as if He hadn’t even thought that was an option.  “Why would you do that?” He demanded harshly, seeming almost angry with her.  “It’s a simple enough query: are you guilty or not guilty?”</p><p>                “If I may speak freely, Your Honor,” she started carefully, shaking out her hair, “I believe I’m both.”</p><p>                He leaned away, fingers going to rub the bridge of His nose as He squeezed His eyes closed.  Could God get headaches?  “That is impossible, Ms. Richards,” He finally sighed, His intense yet tired gaze finding hers once again.  “You’re either guilty and belong in Hell or not guilty and belong in Heaven.  Which is it?”</p><p>                “Neither and both,” she answered, confidence radiating from her.  It was the truth.  “I may be guilty, but that doesn’t mean I deserve eternal torture.”</p><p>                “You helped keep <em>killers</em> out of prison, ignored your children—”</p><p>                “As if You’re one to talk!” she hissed, losing all pretense of professionalism.  Storming up to the bench, she took momentary pause when God was suddenly in the witness chair, looking just as confused as she was.  But she had a case to win, damnit.  Stabbing a finger into His chest, she was surprised that she wasn’t immediately thrown to Hell.  “You threw Your son into a lake of fire and brimstone because of what amounted to youthful rebellion!  He didn’t like Your rules, so he pushed Your buttons; big whoop!  At least I died trying to be better; You won’t even talk to Your son!”</p><p>                He rubbed at His chest, a light of fury rising in His eyes.  “My son doomed My creation to doubt and pestilence and <em>guilt</em>; he made it so bad things happen,” He snarled through gritted teeth.</p><p>                “<em>You</em> did that,” she said calmly, taking a few steps back as her posture straightened once more.  “<em>You</em> had a Plan, right?  Amenadiel and Lucifer have always gone on and on about Your Plan.  So, either You lied to them about that or You knew exactly what would happen before we were even created.  Which is it?”</p><p>                “Are you questioning Me, the Almighty Creator of All, while you stand in My Silver City?”</p><p>                She laughed.  “Isn’t that why You gave us freedom of choice?  At least, if all those priests are to be believed.”</p><p>                He stopped at that, chest heaving in barely contained fury.  She could see the power swirling around Him now, wondering if this was what He looked like just before He started smiting people.  “I will not be talked down to by a woman who couldn’t even do the right thing until she was regurgitated from Hell.”</p><p>                “I earned what happened to me in Hell,” she admitted slowly, remorse rising within her at all the things she had done in her life.  She thought about the murderers, the arsonists, the rich drunks, the embezzlers, all the monsters she’d helped to walk free for the best clothes, biggest house, fanciest cars.  Then she shook it away, reminding herself that she’d been on the right path, was <em>still</em> on the right path.  “But I have eternity to make up for my mistakes, to learn to let go of the past.  I never would have made it into Heaven, Amenaidel or no, otherwise.”</p><p>Feeling triumphant at His lost look, she turned on her heel, strutting back to the steps outside.  But it didn’t feel like enough, so she made sure to toss over her shoulder, “Maybe one day You’ll mature enough to take responsibility for Your actions, too.”</p><p>-.-</p><p>As Charlotte Richards left His throne room and the scene faded away into the unending white void He preferred, God smiled.  Though He wished it could have gone differently—preferably without frightening her into thinking she might be booted from her deserved paradise—He knew she never would have admitted to herself that she belonged if He hadn’t pushed her.  It was terrible and uncomfortable, but He had many mistakes to make up for.</p><p>There were many changes coming to the afterlife; Charlotte Richards and her argument for herself were just the foundation.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you all enjoyed!  It was really fun writing a piece about Charlotte because I think her death really brought a lot of questions into the whole "guilty can't get into Heaven" thing.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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